


The Multiverse Was Never Kind to Newcomers

by Spingtail



Series: AtBB Canon [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Broken Bones, Eating Disorders, Papyrus (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Underswap Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spingtail/pseuds/Spingtail
Summary: The multiverse wasn’t kind to newcomers, he learned very quickly. It didn’t like outliers. It preferred for everything to be neat and orderly.Papyrus was an outlier.





	1. Hello New World!

Papyrus felt himself splitting apart.

He felt his very being reform itself in a place where it didn’t belong, too far above the ground.

He landed.

Not gracefully, of course, but he landed.

Nothing says “Hello new world!” like crash landing face-first into a pile of snow, after all.

Cursing, he pushed himself up, using two magic bones as crutches due to his broken leg.

The leg that had been broken _weeks_ ago, perhaps even _months_ ago, for he had no way of knowing, other than he knew it had been snapped for quite a while.

How did that happen, again?

He couldn’t remember, so it must not have been important. The makeshift splint made of sticks, a ripped-off portion of his old shirt, and duct tape was beginning to fall apart, anyway. He’d have to find new material soon.

 

He didn’t need to think about that now, though.

 

 _Now_ he needed to think about the door he heard opening just a few seconds ago.

 

“Hello?” A voice- _his_ voice, he knew, but someone else’s all the same-- called out, “Is anybody out there?”

Staying as still as possible, his thoughts raced a mile a minute.

 

He heard footsteps.

 

What was _this_ Papyrus going to do to him next?

 

The footsteps got closer.

 

Was he going to hurt him, like everything else had been for so long?

 

The footsteps grew louder.

 

Is this what he was _supposed_ to be like, causing pain and suffering everywhere he went? Was he _already_ like that, and he just didn’t realize it?

 

The footsteps were right around the corner.

 

The multiverse wasn’t kind to newcomers, he learned very quickly. It didn’t like outliers. It preferred for everything to be neat and orderly.

Papyrus was an outlier.

 

The footsteps were only a few feet away, now.

 

Papyrus knew the multiverse hated him. The multiverse went out of its way to hurt him.

He decided he’d had enough of its attitude.

 

When the footsteps finally arrived, he turned around, and threw as much as he could at them. He threw magic bullets, he threw normal bones, he threw rocks, and snowballs, and sticks, and anything else he could get his hands on. Anything to get those footsteps away from him.

 

He yelled something, but he didn’t hear it.

He watched himself yell something, and this time he heard it.

 

“Stop, please! I promise I won’t hurt you!”

 

And just like that, he was finished.

 

For the first time, he stared at himself. This version of him was scraped, bruised, and scratched from his attacks. He looked confused, almost scared, and yet curious all the same.

If Papyrus could see his own reflection, he doubted he would look much better off. At least, that was if the feeling of dried blood on his face was anything to go buy. He clung to his crutches with a grip of steel.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice quieter and shakier than he had anticipated. It had been far too long since he’d gotten the chance to have a real conversation with someone. He’d done more screaming, shouting, and crying in the past month than he probably ever would in his entire life. And that was only the past _month._

“A-are you hurt?” The other him asked, putting his hands up in a placating manner. “Th-that, uh, leg looks pretty bad-”

“I said,” Papyrus interrupted, not much in the mood for mind games, “what do you _want?”_

“I just want to help you,” the other replied, “I promise, that’s it.”

It had to be a trick, Papyrus was certain.

And yet…

 

Before he could make any kind of logical decision, a wave of exhaustion mixed with hunger struck him, and all he could do to keep his knees from buckling was remind himself that he wasn’t safe. He was never going to be safe again. He couldn’t sleep now, or ever. He had to ignore the temptation, because his life depended on it.

 

Unfortunately, his body disagreed.

 

The magic crutches he had been holding dissipated against his will, sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap of tired and sore bones. A surge of pain shot through his leg as he landed, but all he could do was let out a weak whimper. The other Papyrus rushed over despite his protests, and attempted to hold his head up. He was saying something, but it was washed out by the static flooding his skull.

 

He wanted to scream at the other skeleton to get his hands off of him _right this second,_ but he didn’t.

He wanted to keep his eyes open and keep watch for any potential attacks, but he didn’t.

 

Instead, he let everything fade away into darkness.

 

He wouldn’t have minded if it stayed that way forever.

 


	2. New Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surface.
> 
> He was back on the surface, and he couldn’t believe it.

Papyrus woke with a loud gasp, jolting upright and taking in his surroundings. No time to recover from his nightmare, he had to figure out where he was. It was dark, that much was obvious. He couldn’t make out much, but the tell-tale sound of beeping next to his pillow was a good clue.

Pillow? He was in a bed. How did he end up in a bed?

The beeping. Something was monitoring his soul. That meant something was  _ attached  _ to him in order to connect his soul to the machine…

Suddenly aware of the IV digging into his sternum, he ripped it out by the cord. His outfit was gone and replaced with a gown.

 

So, he was in a lab.

 

Considering his lack of proper clothing, he had most likely already been examined. By  _ who,  _ though? Was he about to be turned into some experiment? Had he  _ already  _ been turned into an experiment? What was his last memory?

Oh, right. He attacked a random monster and passed out. It was a miracle he hadn’t been killed by now, but that was probably so that whatever scientist had stolen his clothes could make him their lab rat. 

Whatever, he could find new clothes. It was a shame, though. That chestplate actually protected him pretty well, even if it made him feel guilty to wear. Anything would if you stole it from a pile of dust, after all.

 

Just as he was getting up, someone rushed into the room. Apparently the soul monitor made a louder noise than he thought after he disconnected it.

 

“Oh my god, you’re awake, um-” The person stammered, probably trying to think of a way to get him to lay back down, “-Look, I know you’re probably really confused right now, but you need to-”

They were cut off by him grunting loudly as a sharp pain shot through his leg, and reluctantly, he put his weight back onto the mattress. Apparently, there was a real cast on the thing now. That would be a pain to pry off in the future.

 

He stared at the person who was looking him over, eying them with caution as they made sure he didn’t hurt himself more. They were a human, but not one he recognised. They had bangs that cast a shadow over their eyes and rosy cheeks that made them seem almost childlike. 

 

They looked like the child Papyrus had seen in old photos of the Dreemurr family.

 

He could tell his stare was making them uncomfortable, but he didn’t care much. They were supposed to be dead, weren’t they?

“I, uh, h-have to let Undyne know you’re awake,” they said hastily, finally turning off the loud soul monitor, “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

 

And just like that, he was left alone in the dark once again. Couldn’t they at least turn the lights on?

 

* * *

 

He hated it here.

 

When the human brought back this universe’s Undyne, she bombarded him with as many questions as she could manage in under one minute. Once she slowed down long enough for Papyrus to respond, she was somehow surprised when he didn’t. Why would he? She wasn’t  _ entitled  _ to know things like where he came from, how he got here, why his magic blew up the machine when she tried to examine a sample she had taken while he was still asleep. If anything, she was making him stay silent out of spite.

 

And then the other Papyrus came in.

 

He was tall, taller than most he’d seen, but certainly not the tallest. He wore a hoodie that said something on it, but Papyrus couldn’t concentrate long enough to read what it said. He almost looked silly, wearing his hat backwards like it made him look cooler, somehow. 

When he approached, Papyrus tucked one leg closer to his chest, keeping the injured one outstretched. It was an awkward thing to do while wearing a gown, but he still hadn’t gotten his clothes back, so he’d have to deal with it.

 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, “I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. I won’t even touch you, okay?”

Papyrus didn’t respond.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” the other sighed. “Just nod or shake your head to answer, alright? Can you do that?”

Papyrus hesitated, but gave a stiff nod. 

“Good!” He smiled. “Now… Do you know where you are?”

He knew he was in a lab. Judging from his surroundings, it was probably  _ the  _ lab.  He nodded.

“Really?” The other Papyrus sounded surprised. “Have you been here before?”

He nodded again.

“Oh, sweet!” He smiled again. Papyrus had to admit, he had a nice smile. “When did- wait, yes or no questions only, sorry. I, uh, forgot.”

Papyrus only stared. He hadn’t realized it, but while the other was asking simple questions, his body had relaxed a little bit. He curled up into a tighter ball. Even if the other seemed friendly now, he wasn’t going to risk being a bigger target.

“Do you feel pain anywhere that isn’t already patched up?” The taller skeleton asked. It was only then that Papyrus realized his leg wasn’t the only thing that had been taken care of. There were bandages wrapped around his arm, his feet, his ribs, and he could even feel some band-aids on his face. The old stained bandages he had already had wrapped around his hands had been replaced with newer, cleaner ones. There was a slight sting on the treated injuries, but he couldn’t feel anything significant anywhere else. He shook his head honestly, but even if he had felt anything more, he doubted he would have said anything. The sooner he could leave, the better.

“Do you wanna walk around a little bit? Maybe get a feel for everything? We have some crutches ready for you, if you do. Also a wheelchair, if you wanna use that instead. Your feet probably hurt a lot, huh?”

Papyrus squinted. He had been without shoes for several weeks, and he’d been walking in all sorts of terrain since then.  _ Of course  _ his feet hurt. What kind of question even was that?

He was sick of being confined to the bed, he knew that for sure. He also knew that he wasn’t going to let anyone put him in a wheelchair, when it would make him so much more vulnerable than he already was. When the human came back with a pair of crutches, he reached out for them. He had practically already been using them anyways, just in the form of magic bones. 

He pulled himself up, glared at anyone who tried to help him, and went on his own way towards the lab’s elevator.

 

“Wait, hey!” The human called out one last time, “Don’t you want your clothes back, first?”

 

Sighing, he slowly turned back around, and nodded.

 

* * *

The surface.

 

He was back on the surface, and he couldn’t believe it. 

 

After he exited the mountain, he had simply sat down and stared at the horizon. It had been so long since he knew what fresh air felt like. He almost wanted to cry, but he forced himself not to. The others had gone up ahead, leaving him alone to himself. He didn’t mind.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His own voice said from behind him.

 

_ Mostly  _ alone, anyway.

 

He shuffled away slightly when his double sat down next to him. 

“We’ve been up here for a few months now,” he continued, either ignoring or completely missing the way Papyrus frowned at him. “It’s been pretty weird. Did you know that the weather and temperature changes depending on the time of year? It’s not  _ only  _ regional, like it was underground.”

Papyrus wanted to say that  _ yes, he knew, he had seen it before for three years,  _ but he stayed quiet.

“There are some pretty freaky things about the weather, too,” the other continued. “Apparently there are these things called ‘tornadoes’ that are basically huge funnels of really fast wind. They destroy most things in their path. I saw a video of one the other day, and it was  _ brutal.” _

He almost told him to look up what hurricanes were, but caught himself.

“Okay, I’m, uh, probably just annoying you at this point, but…” He hesitated. “...Did you know that--”

“Most likely.”

The other froze mid-sentence. Papyrus’s voice was scratchy and rough, be it from lack of use or overuse, and it caught even himself off guard to hear it. For a few seconds, all that could be heard between them was the rustling of leaves as a breeze flew by.

“...R-really?” The other finally spoke up. “Have you been up here before? How long?”

“I was on the surface for three years,” he answered. “But not  _ here.” _

Another silence. Papyrus didn’t have to look at him to tell the other was confused, but he didn’t feel like explaining.

 

Attempting to clear the air, the other Papyrus spoke up yet again.

 

“Y’know, I, uh… Just realized I never really got your name,” he said, awkwardly putting his hand out. “I’m Papyrus, by the way. And you are?”

Papyrus finally looked at him, at his hand, and then back at him yet again.

“Papyrus,” he replied, keeping his own hands to himself. That look of confusion was back on the other’s face, much more apparent now that he could see his face clearly.

“But… What?” He questioned, furrowing his brow. “I… Okay, that’ll get confusing pretty quick, then. How about nicknames, just for convenience sake?”

Now it was Papyrus’s turn to look confused. Did this skeleton really think he’d stay around long enough for  _ nicknames?  _

“Yeah, how about I come up with something for you, and you choose something for me. Sound good?” The other continued. Papyrus very slowly nodded, not quite sure where this would go. “Alright, cool! I think I’ll call you… shit, I’m a lot less creative than I thought. How about…. Russ? Does that sound okay?”

Russ. That… actually didn’t sound too bad. He nodded.

“Nice! Now you think of something for me.”

Papyru- no,  _ Russ  _ looked at him for a little while, trying to come up with  _ something.  _ He was already bad at remembering names, so he needed to find something descriptive to use. It wasn’t like he’d talk to this Papyrus much, but perhaps it would make things easier if he just complied and came up with something easy to remember.

Eventually, he realized he could finally make out the words on the other’s hoodie.

 

_ ‘Honey Bear.’ _

 

If he just cut that in half, then…

 

“...Honey,” he muttered. And when he finally looked up from the words, he saw a kind smile.

“Y’know,” Honey said, “that’s actually pretty good! I like it!”

 

Russ was glad he did well. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to stay around long enough to remember it.

 


	3. Whatever You'd Prefer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This universe truly was proving to be different than most.
> 
> Which gave him all the more reason to stay on his highest alert.

“This is where you’ll be staying for a little while,” Honey stated, holding the door open for Russ. “If you’re alright with it, anyway.”

 

Russ said nothing as he carefully studied the house’s layout. He was hit with a wave of homesickness as he realized that it was all too similar to the one he and his brother had shared back home, before he moved out, anyway. He swallowed, trying not to look rude or dissatisfied. He was at Honey’s mercy, after all. One wrong reaction could completely break the calm atmosphere.

“I’m pretty sure the couch folds out into a bed, but we’ve got an air mattress, uh…  _ somewhere,  _ if you’d rather use that,” Honey offered.

“...Whatever you’d prefer setting up,” Russ muttered, just barely realizing that the other had been expecting a decision from him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept on an actual bed. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept  _ at all,  _ other than before he woke up in the lab.

“Oh, uh, okay, I guess,” the other sighed. It seemed like he was starting to get frustrated with Russ’s quietness. That wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he should try to talk more? Just the thought of it made him nervous. What would he say? What if he said something wrong? What if he talked  _ too much?  _

 

Just as he was working up the courage to say something,  _ anything,  _ Honey asked him yet another question.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, already making his way toward the kitchen. Russ’s soul felt like it did a backflip, the thought of food exciting him and sickening him all at once. “I’m not that great of a cook, but I can probably fix up some pasta or something--”

_ “No,”  _ Russ interrupted, his voice far more stern than he had meant it to be. To hell with treading lightly, he decided. He couldn’t remember his last meal, and that was on  _ purpose.  _ He’d decided long ago that, no matter how hungry he got, he’d  _ never  _ get tricked again. Not like he was  _ back then _ . No one was  _ ever  _ going to force him to eat something ever again,  _ especially not pasta.  _ He’d rather drop his crutches and run away on his broken leg.

Honey froze in his tracks, only a few feet away from the kitchen, now. Russ inched closer to the door, wondering just how effective crutches could be as temporary weapons.

“...Are you sure?” He asked, frowning slightly. Russ’s soul did another flip, imagining the worst.

“Yes,” he answered, refusing to look away from the other’s gold eyelights. He wouldn’t dare risk looking away for even a second, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Alright,” Honey shrugged, finally letting it go. “Maybe later, then. My brother’s a better cook than me, anyway.”

Russ only stared at him in shock as he made his way over to the couch. Most of the time, whenever he refused to eat, someone would try their damn best to force him to. This universe truly was proving to be different than most.

Which gave him all the more reason to stay on his highest alert.

 

“Do you wanna fold this out now, or later?” Honey asked, gesturing to the sofa. Russ held back a grimace, not nearly used to having to make this many decisions on his own in one day.

“...Whichever you’d prefer,” he said again, choosing the least risky option. 

“...Alright,” the other responded, his voice slightly strained. He was definitely beginning to get annoyed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “‘Might as well just get it over with, then. It might be easier on your leg, anyway.”

With that, Russ offered no assistance as he unfolded the couch, putting some pillows on it as soon as it was done. In the back of his mind, he considered it, but he knew that he wouldn’t be much help in his condition anyhow.

 

After a few moments of silence, he realized Honey was staring at him.

“You can, uh,” he offered, “sit down now, if you wanna.”

Oh. Oops. That was probably rude.

He sat down quickly, barely registering the relief of not having to hold himself up anymore. He stared firmly at the carpet, still feeling Honey’s gaze digging into him.

A few seconds later, he jumped as he felt another weight next to him.

 

“Russ, uh,” he began, his voice uncertain. “You don’t gotta be so cautious around me, y’know? I promise, whatever you’ve been through… I’m not gonna let it happen again, okay?”

If there was one thing that could snap Russ out of his concentration on a single speck of dirt on the carpet, that was it. He whipped his head up to look Honey in the eyes, finding nothing but sincerity behind them.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he pointed out, wishing for some water as his voice still came out just as scratchy as before. “I barely know anything about you, either.”

“Well… Yeah, I guess that’s true,” the other sighed, scratching the back of his skull. “But hey, here’s one thing you get to know about me: I want to help out as much as I can. Even if I barely know you.”

“Why?”

“I’m… honestly not sure. But I do.”

 

Soon enough, Russ went back to staring down at the carpet, lightly picking at the bandages still wrapped around his hands as he forced himself not to believe he was truly safe, not  _ yet.  _ It could go horribly at any second, no matter how secure it felt. He  _ knew  _ that.

After a few minutes of silence passed, Honey grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand.

 

“How about some TV?” He asked. “Any shows you like?”

  
“Whatever you’d prefer,” he muttered, stopping himself from asking if this universe had any form of  _ Cooking With a Killer Robot. _

 


	4. It's okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s okay,” Russ repeated, hugging his good leg closer to himself as he glanced out the window. It looked like a nice day today. Maybe he’d be able to sneak outside later, if he was left alone again. “It’s okay,” he said once more, far quieter this time as he intended it only for himself.

The first day living with Honey wasn’t so bad. He told Russ that his brother was spending the night with Alphys, and that he probably wouldn’t even know about his existence until the next morning. That was fine with him. The least amount of company there was, the least likely he was to feel trapped.

 

When Honey tried to get him to eat was when problems began to emerge.

 

“C’mon, pal,” he pleaded, still holding the full bowl of oatmeal in his hands. “I understand if you don’t have much of an appetite, but--”

“I said _no,”_ Russ interrupted, digging his fingers into the sheets he was currently sitting on. He raised a wall of bones in front of him, but they didn’t do much in terms of protection. He was still weak, after all, which was exactly why Honey was trying to make him eat in the first place. “You can’t make me. I _won’t.”_

“I don’t _want_ to make you,” the other assured. “It’ll just help you get back on your feet faster. I promise, it’s not gonna hurt you or anyth-”

He was cut off yet again, only this time it was by a single bone slamming into the bowl itself, knocking it out of his hands and leading it to crash onto the floor. The oatmeal made quite a mess of the carpet, but Russ only glared in defiance.

Sure, he was shaking like a leaf, and he was sure as hell that he had just ruined whatever pity Honey had for him, but he wasn’t going to eat, dammit. Even if he _did,_ it would be something he made _himself._ Just the smell of this food nearly made him nauseous.

When Honey took a step forward, he rushed to get up, scrambling to get a good hold of his crutches as he began to think of an escape plan before the other could land the first hit.

Strangely enough, though, an attack never came.

“Okay,” Honey sighed, putting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Fair enough. Sorry, I honestly shouldn’t have pushed.”

With that, he went to the kitchen and came back with a spoon, another bowl, a broom, and a dustpan. He swept up the shards of what used to be the bowl before scooping the remaining oatmeal into the bowl, trying to clean it up as well as he could, despite some of it already soaking into the carpet. Russ nearly gave an apology of his own, realizing that he had just made a mess bigger than most people were willing to tolerate, but he only stared. He still had his hands on his crutches, ready to make a run for it if need be. Thankfully, the need never came.

 

Once Honey finished cleaning up, he disappeared to the kitchen once more, presumably to return his supplies. That gave Russ some time to figure out what to do next.

He quickly decided that he had already pushed his luck much too far, and that whatever Honey wanted him to do next, he would do without question. He wasn’t going to take any more risks, as long as more food wasn’t involved.

So when Honey finally emerged from the kitchen with that barely-hidden concern covering his face, he knew he was in for something he wouldn’t particularly _enjoy._

 

“I wanna try just one more thing, alright?” He stated. Oh boy. Yet another attempt to make him feel less cautious, because of course the _first_ thing he wanted to do in a strange universe where anyone could hurt him at _any possible time_ was let his guard down. Of course. His lack of enthusiasm reflected onto his face, though he tried to keep it from looking too sour. “I promise, it’s not too bad. If you don’t like it, you can tell me at any time, alright?”

Russ nodded quickly, though he knew that if he didn’t like it, he’d more than likely keep his jaws shut. Whatever, he’d probably get over it quickly anyway, right?

“I’ll be right back,” Honey said, and walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He scrambled around inside for a few moments before walking back down with a large bundle of fabric in his arms.

He laid the ball of fabric down carefully next to Russ, who eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s a weighted blanket,” he explained. “It usually helps relax me when I’m stressed, so I was thinking, uh, maybe it’d help you, too?”

Oh. He had heard of those before, actually. He was surprised he hadn’t recognized it at first, considering that he had even owned one back home. For once, he was actually glad that this new Papyrus seemed hellbent on pampering him.

Letting out a quiet hum, he slowly draped it over his shoulders, ready to let the soothing pressure calm his nerves.

But, unfortunately, it turned out to be _nothing_ like back home, just like everything else.

The pressure was no longer relaxing, it was _suffocating._ He felt like he was being held down, like he couldn’t _move,_ and he tried desperately to control himself as he began to shake miserably. At least he could hide the distress in his face, somewhat.

“What do you think?” Honey asked, not noticing his panic. “Does it help at all?”

Russ couldn’t find it in himself to speak, so instead he just gave a shaky thumbs up. He had already been shaking since he woke up in the lab, though, so the other still didn’t seem to notice that it had worsened. God, he _hated_ this thing. How had he been able to stand it before?

“Nice,” Honey said, shooting him a small smile that was soon covered by a long yawn. “It’s, uh, pretty late, actually. Do you think you could sleep well with that?”

 _Absolutely not,_ Russ thought, but he nodded anyway. 

“Alright, good-” another yawn, “-I think it’s about time we both hit the hay, yeah? It’s been a pretty exciting day.”

With every second that passed, he got closer and closer to flinging the blanket off of him like it was on fire. He nodded again.

“My bedroom’s upstairs…” Honey pointed out, looking contemplative. “Will you be alright down here by yourself, or--”

“I’ll be ffine,” Russ forced out, cringing at the unconvincing shake in his voice. 

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded again.

Honey took a few seconds to think, before another round of yawns seemed to win him over.

“Alright,” he decided, “I’ll be _right_ upstairs if you need me, okay? It’s the door furthest from the stairs.”

Russ nodded yet again, internally begging him to just _go already._ He _had_ to get this blanket from hell off of his shoulders _now._

Honey waited for a moment, looking like he wanted to say one more thing, but eventually turned around and went to his room, _finally._

Russ waited a few seconds after the door closed, each one feeling like hours.

Finally, he ripped the blanket off, taking a deep breath as he found that he could suddenly breathe normally again. He took a moment to just sit there, staring at his reflection in the blank TV screen in front of him. He looked _awful,_ with his tattered shorts, bandaged bones and his single white chest plate, but at least he was _alive._ That was all that really mattered nowadays, after all. 

After a good few deep breaths, though, he noticed just how much his throat hurt. When was the last time he had gotten any water?

Well, there _was_ that time he drank out of one of the ponds in Waterfall, but he wasn’t sure if that glowing liquid counted as _water._

Nonetheless, he figured now was as good a time as any to get a drink. He hoisted himself up from the sofa bed, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could with his crutches. It wasn’t too bad on the carpet, but he froze before he entered the kitchen, not having thought that far ahead, somehow.

 

It wasn’t the crutches that were the problem, though. He knew if he went slowly and carefully enough he could get through and back out without a sound. 

The problem was the fridge. And the stove. And the microwave. Even the now cold oatmeal that he had vehemently refused earlier was calling him in, though it was sitting in the trash can.

 

His soul jumped and lurched at the same time as the thought of all the food that could be in that refrigerator. He was so, _so_ hungry… Maybe a little look wouldn’t hurt?

He took a step forward before he reared back, internally screaming at his own foolishness. _Not only_ had he been thinking of stealing food directly out of his host’s fridge, but he had also been far too tempted to actually _eat it_ without having a clue what it could be made of. Screw the water, he had to get away from this horrible part of the house before it made him sick.

He swiftly crossed the living room, sitting down on the sofa bed yet again. He had to admit, he was pretty damn tired, but he wasn’t willing to sleep here. Not yet. It was far too _open._

 

Instead, he folded his uninjured leg to his chest, staring at the oatmeal-stained carpet as he began counting the seconds.

 

He got to 11,580 before the sun came up.

 

* * *

 

At 20,580 seconds, Russ heard a loud roar come from outside the house.

 

He stopped counting immediately, the roar sounding like it was getting closer, even as he covered the sides of his head with his hands. Sure enough, it was, stopping just outside on what was probably the driveway. Russ was left sitting as far away from the door as possible, his hands still over his ear holes, as he vaguely heard footsteps approaching the door.

Honey was nowhere to be found. How had he slept through something _that_ loud? Was he dead? Of course, the _one_ person who didn’t treat him like a dog’s chew toy would die just a day after meeting him. That was just his luck, wasn’t it? And now, with the footsteps getting closer and closer, he was going to, too, if he didn’t find somewhere to hide.

Unfortunately, as he got up from the bed, he forgot about his bad leg and promptly fell. He hastily scrambled next to the far side of it, ducking down just as the door opened.

 

“Papyrus, I’m home!” A deep voice shouted. Russ forced himself to keep his hands still, but this monster was _loud._ Just a single shout felt like a bullet running through his skull. “Papyrus?? Are you sleeping late again, lazybones?”

Russ cursed silently to himself as he heard footsteps shuffling towards the staircase, which meant they were coming to _him_ as well. He tried to see if he could fit under the bed, to no avail, as he could hardly get his good leg under.

Grinding his teeth together, he folded his hands over his mouth as he watched the other monster come into view.

He had Sans’s face, though that wasn’t anything new. Russ had just never seen a Sans that actually _yelled_ before _._ He didn’t like it very much, to say the least.

“Why’s the couch folded ou--” The Sans began, but cut himself off as he finally caught view of Russ. His eyes widened, “Papyrus! Oh my god, what _happened?”_

He rushed forward, only to be shoved back as Russ weakly kicked out with his good leg. He raised his arms protectively out in front of him, not finding the strength to use his magic. 

“Paps?” Sans asked, _finally_ lowering his voice as he regained his balance. He crept closer still, putting out his hands in a placating manner. “Hey, it’s just me. Want me to help you get back up?”

Russ didn’t answer, choosing instead to back up further into the wall behind him.

“...Alright, that’s fine, too,” the other accepted. He sat down on the floor as well. “I’m gonna heal you up a bit, alright?”

Russ noticed that he had unintentionally begun to lower his arms, and quickly shoved them back up. He flinched hard as a finger gently rubbed along one of the many scars that littered his forearm. He shivered as he felt healing magic run over it, but it didn’t seem to have any affect.

“...These are already healed,” Sans quietly pointed out. “How long ago did this happen?”

Russ still didn’t respond, curling into a tight ball as he heard someone rush down the stairs.

“Sans!” Honey exclaimed, slightly out of breath. “That’s, uh, not me. Well, it kind of is, but not really. Um, you should give him some space, please?”

Sans looked up at his brother with wide eyes, clearly very confused, but he did as he was told and rose from the ground to walk a few feet away.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Honey said, slowly approaching Russ as he kept his voice soft. “Let’s get you off the floor, okay? I bet it’s not very comfortable.”

Russ slowly uncurled, raising his head up at the other, who was now crouching to be at eye level. He had a hand outstretched, with the crutches in the other. 

After quite a few seconds, Russ weakly took the hand and let himself be pulled up. He stumbled a bit, grabbing Honey’s arm for balance before finally getting a good hold on his crutches. He remained standing for a second, only to crash back onto the sofa bed once he got closer.

“There you go. That’s better, right?” Honey asked before turning back to his brother. “Bro, this is Russ. He’s gonna be staying here for a little while, at least until his leg heals up. Russ, this is my brother, Sans.”

“...Hey, Russ,” Sans greeted, sticking out a hand that Russ barely held on to as they shook. “I’m sorry for startling you earlier.”

“...It’s okay,” he croaked, wincing at the pain that speaking brought. Sans perked up at that, somehow looking even more concerned than before.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he stated before rushing off to the kitchen. Russ silently cheered, thankful he wouldn’t have to resort to river water again.

 

“Sorry I didn’t get down here sooner,” Honey apologized as soon as Sans left. “I didn’t realize he’d get here so early.”

“It’s okay,” Russ repeated, hugging his good leg closer to himself as he glanced out the window. It looked like a nice day today. Maybe he’d be able to sneak outside later, if he was left alone again. “It’s okay,” he said once more, far quieter this time as he intended it only for himself.

 

“Here,” Sans said, returning to the living room with a glass of water. It was a clear glass, thankfully, but Russ still eyed it suspiciously as he took it in his hand. The liquid wasn’t cloudy or bubbly, so he risked a small sip. When he didn’t taste anything salty or bitter, the rest of the water was gone in just a few seconds as he gulped it down. He was even thirstier than he had thought, but he didn’t ask for more.

“Thank you,” he muttered, holding the now-empty glass out for Sans to take before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand. He simply shook his head when the other offered to get him more, not wanting to owe even more than he already did to this strange universe.

 

* * *

 

A few too many hours passed before Russ was left alone again.

 

The brothers of this world didn’t seem to know what to do with him. They tried to get more information about his experience with the multiverse, thinking they were being subtle with how they were looking for clues on how he could have possibly ended up so broken from it all, but stopped when he refused to answer anything more. Like _hell_ he’d ever consider telling them anything, no matter how much hospitality they gave him. He wasn’t _that_ stupid, thank you.

Eventually, Sans left the house again, stating he was going to help Queen Toriel with some of her baking, as if Russ didn’t already know that he was actually going to blab to Alphys about everything. He had tried to offer Russ a meal before he was gone, but it hadn’t worked, of course.

Honey was much harder to pry off. Even after his brother had gone, he tried to kick up small talk with his injured counterpart, eventually returning to the same method of communication they had used back at the lab, with Honey being the only one speaking while Russ stared blankly at the TV.  

Once he finally realized that Russ just wanted to be alone, he said that he had to make a quick phone call, and went to the kitchen before only incomprehensible muttering could be heard, drowned out by the noise of the TV. Russ eyed the door, right next to the couch he was already sitting on. It was a stupid idea that rose up in his skull, one that would surely backfire, but he was still all too tempted. Honey was in the kitchen, and the kitchen was directly across from the door. He’d see him try to leave before he even put his hand on the knob.

 

But Russ just wanted to go outside again.

 

He strained to listen to Honey’s conversation over the TV, trying to determine how attention-consuming it sounded. When he couldn’t figure it out, he scooted across the couch until his legs hung off the far end as he leaned to get a view of the kitchen.

Honey’s back was turned.

That was all he needed.

 

As quietly as he could, he pushed himself up onto his crutches, using his small amount of magic to open the door, and left.

He almost didn’t close the door behind him, but changed his mind soon afterward. If Honey decided to come after him, that could slow him down, if only for a second.

Taking a cautious look around the neighborhood, he took a deep breath of the light surface air before setting a path down the street, shooting his eyes up at the sky every now and then. He still had to stay vigilant, of course, but he couldn’t stop the urge to stare at the clouds.

 

Once he got to wherever people _weren’t,_ he could look at the sky all he wanted.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah, I uh, _really_ thought I’d at least have an idea of what to do, but…” Honey spoke into his phone, keeping his voice low so that Russ wouldn’t hear. “...It feels like I keep hitting some wall. He won’t even _eat.”_

 

“Jeez, really?” Undyne asked from the speaker. She sounded sympathetic. “Does he think you’re gonna drug him or something?”

“...Maybe, actually,” Honey answered, recalling the morning’s events. “Sans gave him some water earlier and he seemed like he was inspecting the first sip. After that, though, he chugged the rest down like a fish in Hotland.”

“Ha ha,” she laughed dryly, quickly getting back on topic. “You should probably get him to see a doctor. An actual, uh, medical one, I mean. There’s only so much I can do with a lab that I barely use anymore. Yesterday was the first time I went back there since we left the Underground.”

“Do you think Gerson would be good?”

“Gerson’s not a doctor, dude.”

“Well, duh, but I bet he’d know what to do, right?”

Undyne paused for a second, before sighing.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “That old man’s a better option than anyone else I can think of.”

“I’ll see if I can take Russ over to his place, then,” Honey decided, nodding to himself. “Thanks for the help.”

They said their goodbyes, and Honey went back out into the living room to determine whether he should wait until Russ was talking again to take him, or just hope he’d get a hold of it during the car ride.

 

Unfortunately, it didn’t look he’d have to decide just yet.

He called Undyne back.

 

“What is it?” She asked, not bothering to say hello as confusion mixed with slight concern filled her voice. “Is something wrong?”

 

“Yeah, um,” Honey answered, staring at the couch. “He’s, uh, gone.”

 


End file.
